Sex and Candy
by sweetprincipale
Summary: Set during S.4, episode Who are You? and deviates from there. Riley's unintentional infidelity creates a chain reaction. One act of camaraderie  sparks one night of passion between Spike and Buffy. Will be short and smutty. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Sex and Candy

By Sweetprincipale

_Set during S. 4 Episode "Who Are You?" and deviates in the midst of it._

_Author's Notes: Short, smutty, Spuffy. I do hope you like it, I just needed a little break from my larger projects and thought this would make an interesting distraction._

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part I

Spike nursed his beer in a scowling, sullen mood. The Bronze was like a packed buffet and he was muzzled. And to make it worse, bloody hell, his misery was now _complete_, the Slayer was there. The "good one", not the rogue one, crazy chic name of Faith. Now, that was the girl he wanted to see. Just 'cause he couldn't do the dirty work himself, didn't mean he couldn't help arrange the slaughter. Maybe watch it. She sounded right vicious, probably wouldn't mind if he drank the Slayer dry, as long as she got the actual kill.

But, no, that was his luck. He got Ms. Holier-than-Thou instead of her dark counterpart. She wasn't with her little friends, she wasn't with Mr. Cornfed, she was on her own. Dancin' her petite arse off, with a crowd of boys. Girl must be drunk. He'd seen her loads of times, but never like that. She didn't have the temperament to flaunt it all.

Oh, hell. And now she was takin' a break, and comin' towards him. Best make a hasty retreat...

* * *

><p>Blondie didn't have much in the T&amp;A department, but she got the job done, Faith appraised her sweating, borrowed body. And she was gonna get plenty more done for her tonight. She just needed a quick drink, and then she'd pick the best hunk of beefsteak from her little boy-herd, and have a good time. Maybe pick a couple, she had a few hours to kill, and might as well make use of what she had. She smiled darkly, smug smirk on her face, or rather, what B. had. "Whoops!" A little too much fun already, or maybe it was getting used to these teensy little feet. Faith, in Buffy's frame, surveyed who she'd bumped into.<p>

"Oh, you." Spike frowned, acting surprised to see her. Best not to let Buffy know he'd been watching her.

"And you." Uh-oh. Think like B., think like B. Damn. Who was this guy?

"What, are you keeping tabs on me? You're gonna give me a hard time now?" She was so bloody annoyin' this pint-sized do-gooder. Couldn't she even let him alone when she knew he was harmless? _Temporarily _harmless, that was.

"Um, do I usually give you a hard time?" Faith stalled. Good-looking guy. A little pale, but nice fashion sense...

"Very funny. Well, you don't have to worry about me _drinking_. Unless you're here to protect innocent beers." He stalked away. Gotta give her some attitude, he might be harmless but he wasn't _neutered_.

"You're a vampire." Ah-hah. That must be why B. was riding him. Ha. Girlfriend should really have learned that there was more than one way to give a guy a "hard time." She leaned seductively on the pillar by the pool table, swiveling her hips. Let's see if we can lure this one in, shall we, B.? Oh, God, she really hoped so. Wouldn't that be fun for "Faith" to hear about, locked away in some dank cell in moldy old England?

Spike had a flash of surprise before his words spilled out. Girl was no genius, but she didn't usually go around identifyin' his species in the middle of a conversation. Or banter. Whatever the hell this was. "_Was_. And as soon as I get this chip out of my head, I'll be a vampire again. But until then, I'm just as helpless as a kitten up a tree. So why don't you sod off?" He itched to slam his bottle through that pretty little stuck-up face. Taunt him, that bitch was-

"Ok." Faith walked off with a flounce. No fun here. Pissy vamp, great if she was lookin' to slay, but she was lookin' to lay. Back to the boy toys on the dance floor.

"Oh, fine! Throw it in my face! 'Spike's not a threat anymore. I'll turn my back. He can't hurt me'." Did she ever, _ever_ stop her prissy little, "I'm so bloody perfect" act?

"Spike?" _Ohhh, now I got it, I know that name._ "Spike. William the Bloody with a chip in his head. I kind of love this town." She stalked him, making him take a step back.

Why in hell was she sayin' his name like that? "You know why I really hate you, Summers?"

" 'Cause I'm a stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun?" She replied with a completely matter of fact tone and bright smile.

That took him aback. "Uh. Well, yeah, that covers a lot of it."

" 'Cause I could do anything I want, and instead, I choose to pout, and whine, and feel the burden of slayerness? I mean, I could be rich, I could be famous, I could have anything. _Anyone_." Vamp wasn't running, he was staring at her with a confused look on his face. Must not be used to talking to B. like this. Like she actually knew she was a bitchy little self-involved prom queen wannabe. Maybe he was layable after all. Maybe he was layable, and slayable, that'd be a sweet way to end things. Like a praying mantis. They kill after they mate, right?

Spike's eyes widened as she sauntered and swayed back to him. Her hands were on his chest. So hot, so close, her bright red lips, fire engine red, temptress lips, inches from his. What was she playin' at?

"Even you, Spike. I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne, and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more." She took in his face. Melting him down, God, she still had it. But little Miss Sugar 'n' Spice didn't. _Gonna have to let the big bad go, or blow your cover early in this game._ "And you know why I don't?" Tempting as it was, he wasn't worth it.

He couldn't speak. Why the hell couldn't he speak? They chipped his violent impulses nothing else. And he was suddenly not feeling much of a violent nature to this girl. Unless shagging her into a broken, pouting pulp counted. Prob'ly didn't count if she was asking for it, which, oh, Lord, with that description, she wasn't asking for it, she was bloody _begging_ for it. He twitched his lips once but no sound came out.

"Because it's _wrong_. Hmm, hmmph." She chuckled, beamed at him, slowly sliding away.

Bloody little cock-tease. "I get this chip out, you and me are gonna have a confrontation." Spike snarled darkly.

"Count on it." Faith pushed Buffy's features into a more serious expression, still gloating inside.

Spike threw his bottle into the wall and swept off in a rage. And then stopped. Oh, there had to be some way, chipped or not. Some way to get her. Take her down a peg. "Oi! Slayer." He pushed after her, watching her eyes suddenly widen and a frightened gleam passed through her green gaze before muting it down to a look of disinterest.

"What is it?" She asked, trying to look bored.

"You're all high an' mighty, but you seem to forget, we've already kissed."

Faith's eyes popped. Go, B., movin' through the hotties, living or dead. "We- well I'm with someone else now." She purred.

"Oh, yes. Your Captain America wannabe. But you wouldn't be out there, dancin' like a cheap trick if you didn't need a little bit of dirt in the skirt."

How the hell did B. let this one go, with the blue eyes and the smoky voice? "I was just loosening up a little. You may not have heard, but I'm celebrating. They caught the girl that was after me. A bad girl. _Your_ type."

"Oh, an' you weren't my type a few weeks ago? Magically induced or not, Luv, you couldn't get enough." He snarled.

"Maybe I do want another taste." Faith flicked her tongue experimentally over her lips. He could be the dry run. Make sure the mouth was still in kissing order. But that was all. No time for more, she'd just seen Willow and some blonde entering the club.

Never in a million years did he expect her to shove her head hard into his, making him stagger back. And even less did he expect her to go at it like a bleedin' animal, sticking her tongue halfway down his throat and biting his lips until they bruised. All of it over in five seconds of violent merging, and then she pushed off with a panting, insincere smile. "Sorry, Spike. Vamps might be hotter, and good girls may like the way bad boys taste, but they always pick the good guys in the end."

What the fuck was that? Spike returned to the bar and ordered something stronger than beer. Somethin' was far, far out of place. But he couldn't think right now. Just had to sit, be calm, watch. Like a good hunter, even if he couldn't kill the prey.

* * *

><p>Spike watched Red, Buffy, and some soft lookin' blonde engage in conversation. If you could call it that. It didn't last long, and it certainly didn't seem to fit the usual pattern of the little Scooby gang. Fragmented, uncomfortable, even though he couldn't hear what they were sayin', he could read the body language a mile away.<p>

Somethin' was badly wrong. And as much as he hated all of them, and their sweet little insistence on thwarting his plans, his curiosity was usually stronger. He watched the Slayer leave, come back, talk a bit more, and leave again. The little witch and her pal were leaving as well, but heading in a different direction.

Spike sat and mused for awhile. "Bugger this." Spike followed the twosome, trailing the redhead's scent. They had a good head start, but using his vampiric speed and stealth he managed to race around them, and get past them. He was able to cut them off, appearing from the shadows a few feet in front of them, just before the dorms. The blonde gasped and the redhead took an annoyed step backwards.

"Spike! Don't do that!" Willow admonished. "Tara's already feeling icky, and you and your Prince of Shadows act are not helping!"

"Oh, spare me the lecture." He scoffed. "Look, I had to ask you a quick question, and then we'll all go on our merry ways, right?"

"Okay." Willow said cautiously. Tara nudged her and murmured something. "Oh! Spike, Tara, Tara, Spike. Spike's a vampire, but he's helpless." Tara's extended hand fell back to her side rapidly.

"I'm not soddin' helpless! I'm just- not able to bite anyone at the moment." Spike shrugged defensively.

"Oh." Tara kept her eyes downcast and Spike dismissed her for the moment.

"Look, did the Slayer happen to develop some weird split personality over the last day an' a half?"

Tara's head jerked up and Spike took a step back. "Just askin'."

"Why would you ask that?" Willow pressed, looking between the two of them.

"Well..." Spike's smirk died, replaced by confusion. "Not that I like the girl, but I'm used to her actin' a certain way. Not used to her flirtin' with everything in trousers. Especially not _my_ trousers, if you get my meaning."

"Eww! Eww, Spike!" Willow shoved his shoulder and then stuck out her tongue with a cry of disgust. "Buffy would never, _ever_ be interested in your trousers!"

"I know!" Spike cried, hands raising in mild exasperation. "Was like she was all over every boy in the place, includin' yours truly, and then walked off. An', no stakin' me for this, but your pal is a little uptight and self-righteous."

"Well, around you, maybe." Willow conceded, crossing her arms.

"Ever hear her use the phrase 'I'm a stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun', when talkin' about herself?"

"No!" Willow hotly denied.

"Willow!" Tara urgently tugged her friend's sleeve. "Willow, remember that girl you told me about? The 'cleavage-y slut-bomb'? Who hates Buffy?"

"Faith?"

"Psycho-slayer." Spike grinned. "Would've liked to meet that piece of work."

"You m-m-might have." Tara stammered, trying to speak too quickly in her agitation. "Th-this is going to sound crazy, but I don't think that was Buffy at the Bronze tonight."

"It was Buffy." Willow and Spike said as one, and exchanged a brief glare.

"Her aura was all dark and prickly. Like it was overlaid with someone else's. Her energy flow- it doesn't feel right." Tara's voice grew stronger as Willow reassuringly rubbed her arm. "Like a stadium light jammed in a little bedside lamp. Too much, all churning out wrong."

"But, Tara," Willow bit her lip, "that _was_ Buffy. No doubt about that, I've known her for four years! Even if she is acting- a whole lot like Faith, she couldn't _be_ Faith. Could she?" Willow asked tentatively, wincing at the thought.

"I think there's a way to tell, a spell. Maybe?" Tara offered.

"It'd make sense, in the screwed up way things make sense around here." Spike leaned back against the brick wall, comfortable with the sudden discomfort in the air. "She didn't kiss like Buffy. Didn't taste like her, either, now I come to think on it."

"She KISSED you?" Willow yanked Tara's hand and broke into a run. "You could have said that at the beginning, saved us some time!"

"Where are you going, then?" Spike shouted after them.

"To find the spell, see what's going on, and fix it!" Willow cried, not even looking back.

"Right!" Spike prepared to follow them. "Wait. What am I doin'? This is bloody priceless, perfect, the good slayer is trapped in the bad slayer's body, likely to get herself stung up by the Watcher goons." Spike turned resolutely in the other direction, away from the campus. The perfect consolation prize in place of him killing her had to be the fact that she'd die at the hands of her precious council. The irony!

_Bet she'll protest right to the end. Not that she'll have much room to maneuver, I reckon. Heard about those librarians turned demonologists._ They were ruthless about some things. Once they decided to exterminate you, if they caught you, you were done. And a bonus, Faith would probably get killed by the council as well. Since they didn't get it right the first time. _Kill the body of one and the soul of another, then do it reverse. Wankers, never did manage to get things right, did they?_

The gloating in Spike's head turned down notch by notch the closer he got to Willy's, where he was preparing to have a celebratory drink to commemorate the slayer's imminent death. I'd love to see it. Too good to miss, Slayer trapped in the evil slayer's body, off on her way to being permanently locked up, killed by the wankers who order her to kill others.

And it wasn't fair. Spike shook himself. Where the blazes did the concept of fair come in? Had it been fair that she'd thwarted him at every turn until now he'd never, ever get the sweet satisfaction of tasting her blood?

Wasn't fair on her. Not that he liked her, but she had spunk, and style, that touch of dash that made it fun to hunt her and fight her, back when he'd had the chance. And it was still quite entertaining to annoy her, sometimes even fun to fight alongside her. A little nagging voice inside him kept up an insistent chant, _Buffy's too good to go out like that._

Why the hell do I care_ how _she goes, just as long as she goes?, Spike argued back with a grimace. _Because. She's _my _kill. Someday when I'm fixed, she's mine to kill, mine to drink, to taste, to steal her power, and roar over her lifeless body._

Or, as was more likely, knowin' the girl and her irritatin' habit of winnin' all the damn time, he was hers. Hers to kill, and he'd make her work for it, by God. That would be a fitting end, for either of them, either way. But for her to go out, feeling as "chipped" and helpless as he felt? "Not gonna be done down that way."

He strode into Willy's, smacking the first demon he saw square in the face. "Alright. Need some info." He shouted, and the clamor of the noisy bar died instantly. "Anyone know where they're holdin' a rogue slayer?"

* * *

><p>"That's not her. That wasn't her!" Willow's voice was a frantic squeak, even though her body was all limp and collapsed on the floor, the spell she'd done exhausting her. "I have to call Giles. We have to get Buffy! We have to get Faith! Oh my God, this is going to be so confusing!" She struggled to sit up, panic fueling her.<p>

Tara calmed her. "We know where the fake Buffy is. I think."

"Oh, God. Riley!"

* * *

><p>Faith, in Buffy's body, shook off her haze of confusion, and pushed away from the handsome commando looking tenderly down at her. She shoulda fucked the vampire. Meaningless, rough, hard. Not gentle, loving, and- and ugh, he said he loved her! He loved Buffy, not <em>her<em>. _He's something good and clean. He'd never love you, Faith, unless you were wearing this good girl body!_ Even as he came up to comfort her, soothe her back to bed, taking her in his arms, she whimpered, unable to answer him. "What do you want from her?" She finally whispered. She didn't hear his soft words. She just kept repeating, endlessly, "nothing". This, with him, it was all nothing.

* * *

><p>Buffy couldn't waste any more tears on the fact that the bitch had her body, and for all she knew it was halfway to Mexico by now. She had to focus. She had to escape, and get back before Faith hurt her mom, or Giles, or her friends. Oh, God, or Riley. She'd gun for him first, right after her mom. With all the crazy ranting about how she'd killed her for Angel's sake, and now she'd moved on. Hah. As if she'd moved on. As if she'd <em>ever<em> move on. But Riley couldn't get caught in the crossfire because Faith, as usual never knew what she was talking about or getting into.

* * *

><p>Outside, Spike deliberately flicked his lighter over the end of his already smoked cigarette, setting it more brightly ablaze. Had to be careful with fire, as a vamp. On the other hand, there was virtually nothing else he could think of to do, bein' forced to lead a life of non-violence as he was. He had to create a distraction serious enough for at least one of the gits holdin' her to come out of the building. And hopefully a fire would be enough to get <em>all <em>of them out, at least long enough for him to slip in and do his own sinister brand of heroics. He snapped the burning butt into a small trail of gasoline at the end of the warehouse and watched it immediately start to engulf the elderly building. Well, that worked. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone, just get them outside for a looksee. No rebounds from the chip. Now, to wait by the door closest to where he could hear one very frantic heartbeat.

* * *

><p>"Smithy! Let's go get the girl. The council can't arrange passage. Plan B. And I heard somethin' a minute ago, might be some of her underworld pals. Ricketts, go check it out, will you? Get the stuff ready for the torch." One of her captors ordered the two others.<p>

"I do not have underworld friends!" Buffy screamed, rattling her chains. "I'm Buffy, not Faith! I have regular friends, and a regular family, and thanks to you, they're probably all dead or about to be dead!"

"Then you'll see them all very soon." The leader of her trio of captors stood outside the bars of her cell, large gun in his hand. He began pushing it slowly through the bars, a grimly determined look on his face.

Buffy knew it was going to come down to this, ever since she heard the words "Plan B". She swung her legs up, ankles connecting around the barrel of the gun and yanking with all her slayer strength. The man's head collided with the bars, and he fell back with a groan, unconscious.

"Ricketts!" The remaining captor raced outside with a wild cry. She brought the gun to her hands and started shooting, wincing with each successive bang, blasting her shackles off, and then starting on the door of her cell.

The door swung open on its own, even though she knew she hadn't hit the lock. "Oh, great." She groaned as a pale, smirking face confronted her.

"Nice to see you, too." Spike returned sarcastically.

"God, I'll have to take care of you later, we gotta get out of here!"

"You've got a clear shot, the other end of this warehouse is on fire, thanks to yours truly." Spike flicked his still glowing cigarette away. "Gotta be careful where you throw these things."

Buffy didn't have time to waste on explanations, not for either of them. She and Spike were clambering into the cab of the armored vehicle as quickly as possible. "Uhh. Uh, I'm good at this, I took the course-" She fumbled for the keys, and bumped the steering wheel and gear shift in quick succession, elbow blaring the horn once. "Oh!"

"Scoot over." Spike snapped, and after a split second's hesitation, she did. "Been drivin' a lot longer than you have." He muttered, and revved the engine up, bursting out of the metal garage door.

"Yeah, well, you can just- drop me off- after this wharf!" Buffy cried, jerking around in her seat as he crashed his way over debris.

"I'm takin' you to your Watcher's flat, Buffy." Spike grunted, swerving to avoid hitting one of the flummoxed looking jailers.

"I'm not-" Buffy paused. "Wait. Aren't you helping me because you think I'm Faith? Uh- the bad slayer?"

"I knew it wasn't you soon's as I saw you." Spike bragged.

"You saw me? I mean, the Buffy me?"

"Yeah. Doin' everything but shaggin' an army base on the dance floor at the Bronze."

"You're exaggerating. Please, tell me you're exaggerating." Buffy begged.

"Well, a mite. You weren't doin' anything completely raunchy."

"Then how'd you know-"

"I remember how you taste, how you kiss." Spike threw her a wink.

Buffy shook her head. Blinked. Shook it again. "Excuse me?"

"She might be in your body, Slayer, but she doesn't taste the same, doesn't kiss the same, either."

"She kissed you? She kissed_ you_? She kissed you, using _my_ mouth?" Buffy put her head in her hands and groaned furiously. "She is so dead."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't worry too much about the little tease she gave me, Slayer. That was only a _kiss_. I shudder to think what she's up to with your Iowa boy." Spike couldn't contain his malicious grin.

"Oh, my God._ Oh, my God _! We don't have time to stop at Giles'. Go right to Riley's room!"

"No can do, Pet. Initiative chappies all over that house. Look, your mates always head to Rupert's flat when faced with a crisis, right? So that's the best place to put you."

Buffy sighed deeply, clutching her knees. "Right. Hey, I'm out. I'm not dead. That's good. That's a really good start." She threw Spike a sidelong glance, wincing at the sight of herself in the rearview mirror. "Hey. Why are you helping me? If you don't think I'm Faith? How do I know you're not in on some kind of plot to kill me in some other way?"

"Well, 'cause I can't do the job myself, for one thing, an' I wasn't about to let anyone else have the fun."

"So- you're saving my life, so you can kill me later?"

"Why'd you never stake me, Luv? All the times you had me chained up at Watcher-boy's, or since I've had this little government chip shoved up my frontal lobe?"

"You're helpless. You're not going to hurt anyone. And you tried to help me, a couple times. Of course, you tried to kill me a lot more than you helped me, but..." She trailed off. "I'm sorry, where was this conversation going?"

"You were gonna get shot like a fish in a barrel. You're not my favorite person, Slayer, but you do deserve to go out with some flair. That's all."

"So, if the chip were out, and we were just walking along the street?"

"One of us'd be in a bad way." They exchanged a smile. But Buffy's was quickly fading. "Well, I'm sorry, it's what I do!" Spike exclaimed. Soddin' female, enough was never enough. Save their life a couple times an' they thought you'd never want 'em dead.

"Oh, it's not that. Riley. Worrying feeling in my tummy." She rubbed her stomach.

"Ha! That's a laugh, Buffy. If_ I _could tell you weren't you from one little kiss and watchin' you for ten minutes, your beefy boyfriend oughta be able to tell before anything 'improper' happens."

"Yeah... you're right." Buffy nodded, arms crossed at her chest, comforting herself.

Spike finished the drive in silence, and let the body swapped slayer out at her Watcher's place. " See you round. Hope you get your body back."

"Yeah. Thanks. Me, too." Buffy, as Faith, hopped from the cab of the truck and waved before breaking into a run to Giles' door.

Spike watched her go. He should probably go in and see if everything was in order, all the pieces put back in the proper bodies, all that. But he didn't care all that much. As long as the Slayer was moving under her own power, she was fair game, and all that he needed was to get back to bein' fair game himself, and they could finish this little " on-again-off-again partnership."

He put the van in reverse, wishing it was an actual armored car full of money or gold bars. That'd be nice. As it was, he'd just have to ditch it, far too conspicuous and large.

Speaking of large and conspicuous- Spike shook his head with some kind of unknown pity for his sworn enemy, or maybe it was just a weird feeling of knowing something was out of place. But in the back of his mind, he wondered if he'd been right about the Slayer's oversized G.I. Joe. That kind could be smart, but they did things by the book. If the girl looked like Buffy, sounded like Buffy, and called herself Buffy...

Spike sighed, and sighed again. If there was pain to be inflicted, he ought to be the one inflictin' it.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Sex and Candy

By Sweetprincipale

_Set during S. 4 Episode "Who Are You?" and deviates in the midst of it._

_Author's Notes: Short, smutty, Spuffy. I do hope you like it, I just needed a little break from my larger projects and thought this would make an interesting distraction._

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. The song referenced here is "Sex and Candy" by Marcy Playground. I encourage you to listen!_

_Dedicated to Lithium Reaper, Idiosyncratic Delusions, and Msnycegirl0820 _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part II

Buffy, still in Faith's body, prepared to barge through Giles' door, but was stopped by Willow, coming out of it. "Willow! Listen, it's me-"

"Buffy, I know. We figured out what happened to you. Well, Tara, and believe it or not, Spike, did. We're here to help figure out a plan to help you escape- which I guess, is pretty pointless."

"No, Spike got- never mind. Who's Tara? You know what, never mind anything, except where's the bitch who's wearing my body?"

"Riley's on his way here with the bad Buffy. I mean, the not you Buffy. I mean-" Willow sighed. "This is very confusing."

"Faith wearing a Buffy suit is on her way over?" Buffy allowed herself to be led into the house.

"Pretty much, yeah. Riley doesn't know what's going on. The switching part. We didn't want him to get squirmy under pressure and tip her off, so we told him there was an Adam-related emergency and that we needed him and -you- over here pronto."

"Buffy! Are you alright?" Giles took her into his arms as soon as she crossed the thresh hold.

"You mean aside from being stuck in ultra psycho-slut's body? Yeah, I'm okay." Buffy hugged her father-figure back, her head colliding farther up than she was used to, thanks to Faith's height. "But what are we gonna do? Is my mom okay? Is everyone okay?"

"I believe so. And I believe Tara and Willow have a way to reverse the switch, swap you back, as it were." Giles comforted.

Buffy nodded, and then frowned and turned to her best friend. "Umm. Will, have I _met _Tara?

"Not yet. But you will. Tara's a friend. She's a powerful witch, she can read auras, and energy flow, and she knew right away it wasn't you."

"Even though she's never met me?" Buffy was puzzled. "Oh, did you tip her off?"

"No, she just knew." Willow said proudly. "Your energy flow was all extra crunchy instead of smooth."

"I didn't know my energy flow mirrored my peanut butter preference." Buffy replied with a tight smile.

"I'm sorry, Buffy..." Willow held out her hands and Buffy took them.

"Sorry, no, I'm sorry, I'm all with the majorly stressed and wigged out."

"It's ready! All we need-" A blonde of medium height with a sweet face and heart shaped mouth trotted into the room, holding out a little wooden box. Her words died away and she looked anxiously between the sultry brunette and her wicca friend.

"It's okay. This is the real Buffy. In a Faith package." Willow hesitantly introduced the two. "Buffy, this is Tara."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you. The r-real you." Tara shook her hand warmly.

"I understand I owe you for the whole realizing the Buffy-looking me wasn't the real me." Buffy smiled back, instantly liking this shy girl.

"Oh, I wasn't sure, your f-friend, S-spike helped convince me."

"Spike isn't my friend. But I'll thank him later." She forced a smile back to her lips, a worried thought biting the back of her brain. Willow and Giles, even her_ mother_, hadn't noticed the difference, one Buffy with a brand new Faith interior? Tara, a girl she'd never, ever met, and Spike, the seemingly permanent pain in her ass, had known something wasn't right almost instantly? What the hell?

"Here, you need to put this on, right away. They should be here soon." Willow opened the wooden box and revealed a glowing green ring. "We didn't figure you'd be here, we figured we'd need to get Faith to where they were holding you."

"Yeah, how were you gonna manage that?" Buffy took the box cautiously. "What is this?"

"It's a katra. The thing that switched you was a Draconian katra, so we made a homemade one, to switch you back." Willow beamed at Tara. "She did most of it."

"N-no, Willow did the hard part." Tara blushed.

Buffy slipped it on her finger, and felt the tingle of the green glow invade her. "Okay, this thing could totally exfoliate, but what do I do to the other me, to swap us?"

"Grab her hand." Giles said simply.

"Grab her hand?" Buffy repeated slowly. "That's it?"

"I don't think 'that's it' is quite the phrase. I don't imagine for one minute you'll be able to just reach out and get hold of her hand." Giles warned.

"Oh, leave that to me. The problem will be what you do with Faith-Faith while I'm unconscious."

"Unconscious?" Willow yelped. "What are you gonna do?"

"Knock her out as soon as she gets through the door, grab her hand just as she's coming to." Buffy said grimly. "And while I'm down, you guys'll have to hold her."

"Tranquilizer darts! From- Oz." Giles said the last part quietly.

"Do it." Buffy gave the order. "As soon as I take her hand, be ready." She bit her lip. "You're sure Riley doesn't know?"

"I don't think so. He didn't say anything on the phone." Willow shrugged. "But he might have been trying to play it cool."

"Well, he's gonna flip out! He'll think psycho bitch is attacking his girlfriend!"

"As soon as he talks to you, you'll be able to tell him things only the two of you know. It'll be okay. It'll be fine." Willow soothed, but there was worry in her eyes.

Buffy took one of the clubs from Giles' weapons chest, and waited behind the door. "Keep her looking straight at you, and try to get Riley away from her." Buffy hissed.

"Okay." Willow looked like she was about to hyperventilate, and Tara was not much better. Giles nodded, standing stiffly, tranquilizer gun hidden behind him on the table.

"Don't hit yourself too hard." Willow suddenly advised in a nervous hiss, as they heard footsteps heading up the walk.

"That has _gotta_ be one of the weirdest things I've ever heard." Buffy mumbled, and tightened her grip.

The door swung open easily, Riley holding the door for the petite blonde by his side. He's so sweet like that, Buffy smiled.

"Riley, we're so glad you came!" Willow sounded way overexcited.

"B-buffy, n-nice to see you again." Tara tried to sound calm and brave.

Something isn't right here, Faith thought, just before the stunning blow hit her on top of the head, and she toppled.

"Buffy! It's a trap!" Riley spoke, too late. "You! You're the one!" He raised his fist, and Buffy dodged it neatly.

"Riley! It's me! It's Buffy!"

"It is! It's her, Faith used a Draconian katra to switch their bodies." Willow rushed forward, hands outstretched.

"It's true." Giles nodded gravely.

"I can prove it, Riley, ask me anything. Anything only the two of would know." Buffy pleaded, kneeling beside her own fallen form.

Riley looked more and more horrified as each syllable passed her lips. "You're saying that Faith is in Buffy's body? Faith?"

"Yes, and I'm in hers." Buffy insisted desperately. "Go on, ask me a question."

"Umm. We fought those scary heart-stealing, voice-stealing demons, in the clock tower. And you wanted me to smash something..." he trailed off, looking at her intently.

"Ooh! Good one, Honey." Buffy beamed up at him, slightly hurt when he didn't return her smile, not even a smidgen of one. "I wanted you to smash the box that had all the voices in it, and you smashed a jar full of purple stuff first. Umm, and that was our first kiss- well not right then, but you and I met at night, when no one was able to speak, and you had broken up a fight, and then we both were about to go, and we kissed."

"Buffy." He gasped, eyes darting between the unconscious body of his girlfriend, and the dark haired nemesis who was holding her soul. "Oh, my God, Buffy!"

"It's okay, Riley, it's going to be okay, we'll be able to switch back." She wiggled her hand, and waited for Riley's face to begin to show signs of relief. It didn't. The incredulous, horrified expression was deepening. She didn't have long to dwell on it.

"She's moving her head." Giles interrupted suddenly, stepping forward, gun in his hand.

"What are you doing?" Riley demanded, hovering beside the girls, loyalties clearly divided between protecting body and soul, both being crucial for true survival.

"I've got to take her hand, Willow and Tara made this katra- majig, it'll switch us back. But Faith is dangerous. Deadly, ruthless, and I'm going to be just coming to. A tranquilizer dart is the best way to handle her.

"Until the Council can get here to pick her up." Giles put his finger on the trigger. "Now, Buffy, now!"

Faith's eyes, technically Buffy's eyes, opened, crossing in disorientation. "You're so gonna regret this." Buffy whispered, seizing her hand.

The disorientation and a shooting pain in the back of her head told Buffy she'd switched successfully. Plus the fact that Faith was now staring down on her, looking equally rattled, and uttering a sharp cry of pain as a dart struck her solidly between the shoulder blades. "B. ..." She croaked, and fell across her.

"Get her up, get her in chains, quickly!" Giles sprang to action. "Riley, help me with her, Willow, Tara, look after Buffy."

"It's you, right?" Willow peered anxiously at the blonde slayer, who nodded weakly. "How can we prove it?" She whispered to Tara. "No offense." She muttered apologetically to Buffy.

"You turned down Oxford to go to school with me. I dropped a psychology book on Riley's head the first time we met him, and I thought he liked you, not me, 'cause you were all with the smart, 'have you read this article' conversation stuff."

"Oh, Buffy, it's you!" Willow squeezed her friend tightly. "I'm sorry about your head. We'll get you some ice and some aspirin."

"I'm fine. Although, I'll totally take the aspirin." Buffy let the two girls pull her to a sitting position.

"I'll get it." Tara bounded off.

"Giles? The Council's coming here? Or were we taking her to them? They were going to kill me. Her. We can't let them do that."

"Yes we can." Riley's voice was hard, and he jerked the ropes more tightly around the slumbering impostor.

"Give me a minute." Giles was already dialing the phone, and walking up the stairs. In a few minutes he returned. "I've handled it. They will come here. Originally, I told them we would be making a trip to them. But the main thing is she's not going to be killed. The Council couldn't arrange passage for her, but I assured them during my initial phone call that we would hand her over unconscious, and they agreed to try again."

"How'd you know we'd get her unconscious?" Buffy took two aspirin from Tara's hand gratefully.

"I didn't. I bluffed." Giles admitted with a tense laugh. "Nonetheless, they should be here soon, and I've got an entire cache of these darts. I'll hand them over with her, if it'll help ensure she makes it to London to stand trial."

"Good." Buffy wobbled to her feet, and sat beside Riley on the sofa. "She didn't hurt you, didn't threaten you or anything?"

"No. No, I'm fine. But you, God, Buffy, how'd you get away from the retrieval team?"

"Umm. The actual getting out alive part, I handled myself. Getting out of the building and over here, that was Spike."

"Spike?" The four other alert occupants of the room cried.

"Yeah. Not out of the badness of his heart or anything, just wanted to kill me himself after he de-chips his head." She, Willow, and Giles shared a rueful smile, while Tara looked on aghast and Riley looked furious.

* * *

><p>The team sent by the Watcher's Council eventually arrived, and Faith was taken away, heavily shackled, tied, and now blindfolded and gagged, her shoes taken away as well.<p>

"Is that really necessary?" Buffy asked, knowing how terrified and helpless that would make her feel.

"It's either these precautions or a bullet in the brain right now." Collins said sharply.

"Just take her away from us then." Buffy requested hoarsely.

* * *

><p>After the rogue slayer was taken out in another armored car, a smaller, black one this time, the tension in the room began to ebb. Except from Riley. His stress level seemed to remain steady, and then began to rise as he held Buffy in the crook of one arm.<p>

"You must be exhausted." Giles stroked her hair tenderly. "Are you going back to your mother's? You're welcome to stay here."

"Or crash in my room." Riley offered with an oddly melancholy smile.

"I was going to do some more spells with Tara, but I can go back to our room instead. Be the scrappy little guard dog while you sleep." Willow added another option.

"I think Faith made me realize I need to spend more time with my mom. I'll go back there. If you'd walk me?" She looked hopefully at Riley.

"Of course." He rose, and offered her his elbow.

"Thanks for everything you did, guys." Buffy hugged all of them, including Tara. "You'll be coming around again, right? I'm guessing Willow kinda told you about our not-so-normal club?"

"She did a little bit. I'd like to c-come back." Tara embraced Buffy, looking over her shoulder at Willow, who was beaming.

"Well, it's crazy central, but you're always welcome to come save my ass." Buffy laughed. "Although-" she paused, "I usually kinda save everyone else's, so if you're worried about doing all the work-"

"You're rambling, Dear." Giles propelled her towards the door. "You've had a terrible ordeal, and now you just need to rest."

"We'll head out, too." Willow waved to Giles.

"It was really nice to meet you, Mr. Giles." Tara shook his hand.

"The pleasure was mine." Giles said genuinely. He waved at Riley as well, and then closed the door behind the four young adults with a sigh of relief. "Let's hope they can all make it home without a crisis. Honestly..."

* * *

><p>"Your friends are really nice." Tara enthused, sliding her fingers through Willow's proffered hand.<p>

"They love you! I'm so psyched about that! Now you're a Scooby."

"I'm a what?"

"I'll explain..." Willow tightened her hold with an excited smile.

* * *

><p>"You-uh- you're feeling okay?" Riley asked for about the tenth time during their slow walk home.<p>

"My head hurts. And I taste like beer, which, ew, Buffy and beer equals mucho badness, but other than that, I'm okay." She gave him a perky smile. "I'm alive, I'm with you, and nothing bad happened." She managed a sprightly little leap in mid step, before realizing that it probably made her look immature and seriously hurt her head to land. "I know you must be pretty freaked by all this." She said softly when Riley didn't join in on her enthusiasm.

"More than a little." Riley stopped walking, and took her shoulders. "I didn't know stuff like this could happen! I didn't even know vampires or demons existed until a few months ago, I didn't know there were actual witches and actual spells."

"I know, I know, I remember what it's like, finding out all the bad parts of fairy tales are alive and kickin' it in Sunndydale." She soothed. "But, when you look at the _end_ of this chapter of storybook madness, nothing really bad happened."

He began walking again, shaking his head muttering. "Riley?" Buffy caught his arm. "Riley?"

"I should have known. I should have known it wasn't you." He said through gritted teeth.

Glad someone else besides me is singing that song, Buffy thought with a hint of bitterness. "It's no big." She lied.

But his head shaking only increased. "I should have known! She freaked out. She freaked out at me right in the-" He paused guiltily.

Buffy's eyes widened, in shock, in disbelief, and then narrowed._ He couldn't have. They weren't even alone for more than a few hours if I'm adding things up right. But Faith _is_ queen of the skank people..._ "She freaked out at you?" She prodded, voice tightening.

"I told her- you, that I-" He didn't meet her eyes. "I said 'I love you'. And she went nuts. Pushing me away, getting out of bed-"

"Oh my God." Tears suddenly threatened to overwhelm her already exhausted eyes. "Y-you slept with her?"

"No! I slept with _you_. Buffy, only you, I would never even look at another girl." Riley tried to embrace her, but she backed away, head down, eyes up, the hunted warily eying the hunter.

"You slept with her. You told her-" Buffy bit her lip. "You might never 'look' at another girl Riley Finn, but did you ever listen to one, watch one? Did she even act like me?" Her voice was getting angry, the tremble of sadness and shock replaced by one of disgust. "How could you mistake her for me? Tell me! Tell me she acted just like I did, tell me she-"

"No! She didn't! She acted differently, okay? But I never know what to expect from you, Buffy! How was I supposed to look at you, Buffy, and think to myself, 'hmm, she's acting kind of peculiar, I should check to make sure her body isn't inhabited by someone else' ?"

"I don't know, Riley. I don't know." Her shoulders sagged. "So this is all my fault? She hijacks my body, sleeps with you, and I'm the one to blame, because I'm not predictable?" He was silent. "I- I thought you said you liked that about me." Her voice had retreated from angry and accusatory, back down to small and frightened.

"I do! God, Buffy, I do. I lo-"

"No! Don't tell me that now, tonight. You already got to say it." Bursting into sobs, Buffy took off at slayer pace, leaving Riley in the dust. The pounding of her feet and the sobbing hurt her pulsating head and made running difficult and blurry. But she didn't care. Had to get home. Where it was safe. Where he wasn't.

Her mother was already asleep when she arrived. She peeked in on her, noting the luggage on the side of the bed. Off on another gallery buying mission in the morning, then. No special mommy-daughter time. Not right now, anyway.

* * *

><p>Buffy looked at herself in the mirror. "What else did you do to me?" She hissed, wiping away fresh tears. "Kissed Spike, seduced a track team at the Bronze, slept with my boyfriend, liquored me up?" She threw a bottle of shampoo on the bathroom sink hard against the shower wall, hard enough to crack the bottle, but not the tile, thank God. "I almost hope they do kill you..."<p>

Buffy stripped out of her clothes and stuffed them in the waste basket. _Not wearing those again. Ever. Burn them later. For right now- burn her off my skin. Burn him, and her, off._ She turned the shower on and got in, lathering furiously, scrubbing until the skin was raw.

She tried to calm herself. It didn't work. She tried to make excuses for him. For all of them. "Faith's a good actress, she had us all fooled while she was working for the mayor. We always try to think the best of people. I _am_ unpredictable."

_But dammit, not _that_ unpredictable, not _that_ good of an actress, and we don't go around with our heads up our asses! It wasn't their fault, but come on guys! If Spike and Tara, a stranger and a thought challenged vampire, can tell something's wrong, so can all of you!_

Buffy collapsed into bed, skin red and stinging. She knew, really, she could never blame them. Or hold a grudge. Honestly, you didn't automatically look at a person and ask if they had a matching body and soul combo. Even Riley, as mad and hurt as she felt right now, hadn't betrayed her or their relationship. He'd only been trying to deepen it- he admitted he loved her.

_He said he loved me- when it wasn't really me in there. Oh, my God. Is it something she had, that I don't, that made him say it? Why tonight? What'd they do? _What do I do?

She fell asleep just as the sun was rising.

* * *

><p>The phone woke her. Xander's excited voice telling her to flip on the television, which she did, automatically. Vampires attacking a church. Gotta go play hero gal. She ran, she dressed, she staked up, and headed uptown to the church where hostages were being held by vampires. Vampires in a church? Apparently Adam was giving quite the pep talk to all kinds of demons, something along the lines of "go out and do something incredibly stupid, but ballsy."<p>

She was so focused on getting in there and combating these audacious vamps, that she was almost able to completely forget why she felt so exhausted, why her eyes felt dry and her mouth felt like she'd swallowed cotton.

"Buffy!" Riley, in a suit and tie, clearly there for personal reasons that had become professional, stopped her at the entryway of the church. "Giles and Willow are over there, by the ambulance. They thought they'd find you here. We're clear to go in as soon as back up arrives."

"Let me do this myself." She shrugged off his arm, not looking at him, the pain engulfing her.

"Just because you're mad at me-"

"This has nothing to do with you! Just let me do this! _You_ wait for backup." And she pushed inside.

* * *

><p>Three vampires confronted her, all big talk, big threats, and she didn't even listen. "Would you just shut up?" Buffy advanced on the alpha demon, the one with the most walk to his talk.<p>

"Oh, you're gonna taste good, I like the little ones." He snarled.

"Yeah? Well, you let these people out, and maybe you'll get a little taste." Buffy taunted.

"Why should I do that? You're just the appetizer, gotta have something after you."

"You know, you're starting a whole new trend with the vampire crowd. Broad daylight. Church. Holy water and cross thrill-seeking. I'm impressed." Buffy sauntered closer, beginning the familiar circling process, emotional rage fueling her. "Very new scene. Very-" she lunged forward, "unpredictable!"

She rocked back and turned at the last second, not engaging vampire number one, instead doing a quick wooden jab through vamp number two. Then she was pulling back and slamming the stake into number three immediately after. "Everyone out!" She yelled over her shoulder, turning to face alpha vamp again.

He roared his fury at her and they exchanged a volley of kicks and punches, Buffy slowly gaining the upper hand. "You know," she grunted, "unpredictable can be a good thing." She kicked him hard in the chest, making him stumble. She fell upon him, stake seeking the heart before he could even react. "But it can also get you hurt." Buffy stood up, dusting herself off." Believe me. I know." She muttered to the now empty church, and left, silently slipping out the side door, heading away from her friends.

_They don't know me as well as I'd like to think._ Maybe the whole slayer anthem rings true. Maybe sometimes, anyway. _Sometimes, it's just you._

* * *

><p>Spike sat in the balcony of the Bronze, enjoying the hum of blood rushing around him from a hundred dancers packed on a dance floor. And he could be up here, looking at all the selections, like a kid in a candy store. Like a kid on the outside of a locked, closed, bolted, and barred candy store, he growled inside himself, rubbing his stubbornly well-behaved skull.<p>

But there was one girl in the sea of gaiety who wasn't participating. Sitting on the opposite side of the balcony, nursing a small drink with a miserable face. A pretty little face, all tear streaked and pouting.

The music changed, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Shouldn't be here. She shouldn't or he shouldn't, not at the same time.

* * *

><p><em>Hangin' round, downtown by myself <em>

_And I had so much time_

_To sit and think about myself_

* * *

><p>Honestly, that was so her right now. Just need to be alone, think about myself, what's going on with my life. And who else is here? Buffy pretended not to see him, all black leather and bat-like coat, sprawling on a chair like he owned the club. Spike.<p>

* * *

><p><em>And then there she was<em>

_Like double cherry pie_

_Yeah, there she was_

_Like disco superfly_

* * *

><p>Damn the girl. Couldn't she take a night off? Had a rough day yesterday, didn't she? And yet she manages to come in here, just sit here, and suddenly she's the only other one in the room. Sod it all.<p>

* * *

><p><em>I smell sex and candy here<em>

_Who's that lounging in my chair?_

_Who's that casting devious stares_

_In my direction?_

_Mama this surely is a dream_

* * *

><p>Their eyes met, his with a look of suppressed anger, and hers with wariness. Watching each other from across the open air of the balcony ledges. <em>Don't need to be near you to keep track of you, I can read you from clear across this building.<em> And with that recognition, their eyes slid away.

* * *

><p><em>Hangin' round downtown by myself<em>

_And I had too much caffeine_

_And I was thinkin' 'bout myself_

_And then there she was_

_In platform double suede_

_Yeah, there she was_

_Like disco lemonade_

* * *

><p>That's all he was trying to do, really. Have a night off, lookin' at his virtual buffet, on his own. Now that Dru was gone and Harmony was bloody intolerable. <em>Just a few hours alone, Slayer, and you have to be here.<em> The most edible one in the bunch. He inhaled. She didn't smell like she usually did, nothing masking her tonight, but he could get a breath of her from all the way across. Oh God, yes. Purely delicious.

* * *

><p><em>I smell sex and candy here<em>

_Who's that lounging in my chair?_

_Who's that casting devious stares_

_In my direction?_

_Mama, this surely is a dream_

* * *

><p><em>Look at him. Looking at me. Like he's wallowing in me. Probably is. Probably remembering "tasting" me, with his new Faith-y reminder from last night.<em>

_Look at her, watching me like I don't know that's what she's doing._

Their eyes met again, and this time his tongue slowly curled behind his teeth, pushing his jaws into a cocky smile. She looked annoyed, and then she looked away.

* * *

><p><em>Mama this surely is a dream<em>

_I smell sex and candy here_

* * *

><p><em>Where'd he go?<em> Buffy looked away for a second and then he was gone. But she could still feel him, her slayer tinglies belying his absence. It wasn't a dream.

* * *

><p><em>Who's that lounging in my chair<em>

_Who's that casting devious stares_

_In my direction_

* * *

><p>Oh, rattled the girl, had he? She was searching for him, and he was slowly moving in the shadows, coming to her table. <em>Gonna inhale her a little bit more before I go. Like a bloody cigarette. Only she isn't soothing me right now, she's not takin' the edge off tonight...<em>

* * *

><p><em>Mama, this surely is a dream<em>

_Mama, this surely is a dream_

_Yeah, mama, this must be my dream_

* * *

><p>"It is you, isn't it Slayer?" His voice right at her side made her jump and gasp as she turned. "Oh, yes, I see it is. Only <em>you<em> could look so miserable. Only you could look so sad about actually _winning_, and havin' your own body back, plus getting rid of a major threat to your precious little Scooby gang." Spike sat beside her, uninvited, at the small round table.

"Go away, Spike." Buffy bit off the words, eyes fixed on her drink, fingers slowly pushing the lime around the edge of the glass

"Seriously, Luv, what's wrong?" And why the hell am I asking_,_ Spike sighed inside himself. He flagged down one of the waitresses in her little black apron and white tee shirt. "Get the lady another one of whatever she's havin'."

Buffy looked up surprised. "Club soda, shot of Sprite, twist of lime." She whispered hoarsely. The waitress nodded and walked off.

"I was gonna tell you to drown your sorrows, but looks like you're just takin' 'em for a swim." Spike slouched back in the chair, deeply annoyed with himself. _Why am I buyin' her anything besides a one way ticket outta this world?_ Buffy continued jabbing at her lime, a dulled expression on her face. _Oh well, maybe this counts as softenin' her up, learnin' her weaknesses. Hmm, she seems pretty low on the defenses. Maybe there'll be a way to work 'round this soddin' chip._

"You in there, Slayer?" Spike sked as she received her drink, and sipped it still unspeaking.

"Would you just shut up? Thank you for the drink and all that, but you really need to go. I just want to be by myself. You ought to know what it's like when love goes badly, Spike." She glared at him, words becoming pointed and harsh at the end.

So he'd been right about Captain Cardboard. Truth, justice, the American way, and blind as a bat. Took the baddie to his bed, and Buffy'd found out about it. But really, now, _love_?

"Oh, piffle. You don't love that boy, even I can see that. Care about him, worry about him, think he's what you need, but love? No, sorry Slayer, it isn't in the mix for you an' him." She stared at him speechless, and getting angrier by the second. And it made her blood pump faster and harder. If he ever got to choose one final drink, he'd pick her in one beat of an unbeating heart. This was one reason he hadn't killed her, let her get killed, he corrected himself. He liked to play with fire, always had, even though he knew it was stupid as a vamp, one of the few things that could off him. And a brassed Slayer, reeking of rage and grief, that could off him as well. And that was the fun, seein' how far he could push.

"You probably just think you are 'cause you feel so bloody awful just now, and that's how you think you're supposed to feel when you're in love, like you were with Angel." Oh, if looks could stake, he'd be taking up urn space just now. Mentioning his poofy grand-sire was sure to send her over the edge.

But it didn't. Her voice was sharp, but sarcastic. "Oh enlighten me, Love Doctor, what's it really_ supposed_ to be like? You follow some crazy ho-bag who talks to the ceiling and plays with dolls until she leaves you for something covered in slime? Forcing you to bed down with Ms. Airhead, class of 1999?"

Oh, kitty had claws. And she stung. Nicely placed cuts. Spike swigged his bourbon with sudden vigor. _Well, if we're evenly matched for the anger and insults, let's see if I can make you squirm, Pet..._

"Hmm. What's it s'posed to be like? Supposed to be like-" he leaned in closer, eyes piercing hers. "when you can't even see straight when you can't see them. When you can smell them, taste them, feel them, even when they aren't with you. When your blood cries out for their blood, like calls to like, every part of you has a reflection in them. When you're so drenched in them," he closed his eyes, "when you can still feel them inside you, or around you, when you've tasted all their secrets." He leaned in closer, feeling himself becoming antsy, noticing that she remained wide eyed, but unmoved. "It's when you still hear their screams, their moans, in your head, even after they're asleep beside you."

Her voice was far away. "Never felt like that." And then thudding back to reality, an undercurrent of mockery in her voice. "That's lust. You don't know how to love."

He laughed once. "You were in love with me once. For a few hours, but still. You know I _can_. You know how you felt. _That's_ love. When you're happy. When you fight, you crave, you worry, you help, but you're _happy_."

Her breathing wasn't cooperating. She felt hot, and confused. He painted word pictures like all those poets she only half remembered from high school. He made her think things, feel things. Bad things, but things she couldn't ignore. "Never could be happy with you, Spike."

His eyebrow quirked and his pale lips pursed in a devious grin. "Never asked you to be, did I Slayer?" There was a way around this chip. Emotional pain doesn't register, and he had her all muddled, just ripe for the taking. He moved his chair right beside hers. "Doesn't mean I can't make it hurt less..."

But she didn't rise to his bait. No insult, no push, no rebuttal. Straight ignoring. Spike took a moment to be offended, before cocking his head to listen to her, speaking softly to herself. "How could he not tell? Even _Spike _could tell."

Ah, so she was no longer contemplating love in general, back to the specifics. "He doesn't know you like I know you." He shrugged easily, draining the rest of his drink. Silly chit, she was a master at the art of self-deception. Anyone who could fall for old Angelus had to be going a bit heavy on the rose-colored spectacles.

Now the fire was back. Buffy slammed her glass down on the table. "How can you say that?" She demanded. "He's my _boyfriend_!"

_Oh, round two, here we go._ "I can say it 'cause I'm your _enemy_. Studied you, worked with you, knew what you were the first time I saw you. Can you say the same for soldier boy?" She didn't answer. "The boy sees what he wants to see. You're not in love with him, but he's in love with you. You mystify him. 'Course he doesn't know you like I know you."

The silence dripped heavily from her open mouth, a protest silenced before she could make it. Then, in a whisper that was stunned and disgusted. "He can't even tell who I am."

He didn't know why the venom suddenly left his words, but it did. His voice was soft, explanatory. "He's afraid of what you are, Buffy. He doesn't like the rebel in you, he's not the type to understand it."

Her green eyes with flecks of hazel entreated his blue ones, Continue to explain, make me understand this next part, they pleaded. "But then, why her?"

He prided himself on his insight, but he didn't think she'd listen to him. Not really. "Maybe he liked that little touch of dark. Maybe he knew something was off, but he didn't know what. Maybe she's a good actress, I don't soddin' know!" His voice raised in annoyance. Because honestly, he didn't know. All the insight in the world would never explain to him how you could know this particular girl and be fooled by an imitation, look alike or not.

"He was confused." She rationalized. Made the same excuse over and over again, all day, but it hadn't helped her feel better.

"Yep. Reckon he was." Spike heaved a deep sigh, and looked idly at the ceiling.

To her mortification, she felt herself starting to cry. In front of him, in front of Spike, who lived to torment her. He'd never let her forget this, and yet, here she went, not only about to sob her guts out, about to spill her secret heartaches as well. "He told her he loved her. Not me! He couldn't tell the difference. He told her first, not me! H-he never said it before, and when he did- not t-to me!"

Oh bloody hell! He'd pushed this game too far, well over his mark. There was no satisfaction in this kind of bawlin'. "Up we go." Spike took her upper arms, gently so the chip didn't fire and she didn't protest, and hustled her down the back stairs. She was in a bad way, she didn't even open her eyes to see where he was taking her, didn't give a toss for her whereabouts and safety. Easy pickings, and he didn't want them. For once. No sport in catching the weak who've been separated from the herd. "Here we go, outside." He pushed open the fire exit, which was never properly rigged anyway, and out to the back alley. She took one look around, before she completely broke down, huddled against the wall, pulling away from him. Shit. Buggerin' hell, this was- this was not right. "Here, Slayer, you're a fighter, you don't cry." He lit a cigarette and puffed nervously.

She spat through her weeping. "Oh, like you didn't over Dru?"

"Touché, Pet, but save your tears for the real thing." He awkwardly patted her shaking shoulder. "Save it for real love, not this regimental soldier and his ham fisted attempts to do what you do. He needs an entire government lab of goons to do what you do every night, on you own." He blew out a long train of bluish smoke, and laughed. "Honestly, Luv, he's not worth it."

Her open palm stung his cheek and knocked the cigarette from his lips. She raised her fists, and he automatically put up his, then they exchanged a look of realization. _We can't fight this out. Not like this, because one of us can't fight back. _

"Why do you do that? Why do you always have to tell me things?" She screamed, dropping her clenched hands.

"Hey!" He said defensively, starting to swagger a bit, puff up with arrogance, but her tirade wasn't quite over.

"Why do you have to make me see things? Why- why can't you just ever shut up!" She demanded in a sobbing shout.

And he came back at her. " 'Cause I'm not nice, I'm not fancy, I'm not puttin' on airs for you, your bleedin' highness. I tell you what's what." She wiped her eyes angrily with the back of her hands, straightening her spine. Ah. There was the worthy adversary. His voice was strong, but not loud. Deliberate. "And I hope you die, Luv, still hope that, hope that you take the solider boy with you, an' all the other buggers who did this to me, " he circled a fingertip over his temple, "since I can't do the job myself any longer. But I hope you go out with style. 'Cause that- you deserve." He was close to her now, speaking nose to nose, eyes locked. A real challenge that he craved.

She had to grin at his strange blend of death wishes and complimentary language. "I'm not going out before I take care of one particular piece of blonde pain in the ass. And I can't- because you helped us." She slowly pushed away from him.

As she shoved him back a few paces he saw it, the stake sliding silently back into her purse. _Oh, God yes, a perfectly matched fight, so subtle this one, ready to do the job on me an' me not even noticing it, locked in those emerald eyes._ He appraised her anew. "Good Slayer. _Very good_." He smirked, gesturing to her purse. Her eyes flickered in acceptance of his praise, and her arms crossed defensively once more. "Don't think I wouldn't have returned the favor, Pet. But I can't kill because I can't kill. Nothing altruistic about it, no 'for old times' sakes'."

Buffy didn't budge, even though he was slowly easing towards her again, chest to chest this time. Cocky bastard, just asking for that piece of Mr. Pointy in him. "Only thing I'd be willing to help you with right now is saving the world if it needed it, and that only because I happen to like it here."

"Yeah, like you'd be real helpful with that now." She scoffed in a low, burning voice. "With your_ chip_.

Damn her again. He looked at her, both of them faintly angry, for one reason or another. Her blood was rushing, her heart was thumping, and she had that blend of heat and fragility that was just so alarmingly captivating. What all slayers should have, but what she had the most of, or maybe a different blend of. It was pushing the limits of his common sense. He heard his voice saying the ill-chosen words before his addled brain could warn him that this would be one of those "you've crossed her line, mate" phrases. "Not helpful? Then I could just fuck you silly and we could stick it to crew cut."

Buffy's face went from smug and hurtful to completely horrified. "That's sick! Why in the world-"

It was his turn to look smug. He hadn't gotten the wooden express to oblivion, so he could push it a bit more. And he was beginning to genuinely warm to the idea, want to convince her. "Why? Oh, because it wouldn't mean anything. And if he wants a nip of the dark, you know you might, too." He smoothly added to his list of reasons, dropping his voice, and his head, lips coming into kissing range. " 'Cause I helped you get your body back, the least you can do is let me take a tour of it." And, sod it, this reason came out, genuinely sounding concerned, and he hated himself for realizing he did mean it. "Because mainly, Slayer, you look like you could use some kind of relief, an' so could I."

A little nip of the dark? Relief? Meaningless? Triggering a thousand different responses. Yes, Riley'd had his sip of bad, why couldn't she have hers? It wouldn't mean anything. It wouldn't even be like it was her, right? I mean, who could tell if she was evil inside or not, right? It would take out some of the stress. It would be what she needed- if she weren't someone else's. "I'm still Riley's girlfriend, Spike. He made one mistake. An understandable one, really."

"You sure you're still his? Because," he sniffed deeply, "you don't smell like his girl anymore. You don't even smell like _you_. Scour yourself off, did you? Get her out of you, get his accidental un-faithfulness off you?" He mocked, hand reaching up to take her cheek.

"Stoppit!" She pushed him away, angrily, and scooted past him, knowing he couldn't have stopped her, even if he wanted to. But she didn't leave the alley.

Spike paused, satisfied smile lurking just under the surface. "Alright. I've stopped. So why are you still here?"

She didn't look at him, and he had to strain to catch her low words. "I don't know where to go."

Well, he hadn't expected that. Girl had bags of chums, a lovely mum as well. She was far from on her own, with no place to go.

She turned to face him, arms no longer just crossed, but now wrapping protectively around herself. "No one but you knew it was me. Not Mom. Not Riley. Not Willow, Giles, or Xander. God, Spike, it was Tara, who I'd never _met_, and you, who I hate, who told my best friends that I wasn't really with them." Her voice had risen to an incredulous, irate cry, and just as suddenly died to almost inaudible. "No one knows the real me."

She was self-involved, wasn't she? But then again, he surveyed the confused features in front of him, maybe she had reason to be. "You're a slayer. You're a girl. It's that simple tonight." He closed the distance between them, standing with her in a shaft of moonlight in the darkness of the alley. "You need a little scratch for your itch, and I'm all the claws you could want, Luv."

She made a short desperate sound, and the she was kissing him, leaning him back into the alley wall.

Hard, hungry, like she's drowning, and she still kisses better than that harpy who was wearing her skin last night. All soft, and needy, but passionate, on fire, oh God... He wrenched her around, silver ringed fingers grasping her hard, taking her mouth with a soft grunt, and her waist with possessive hands.

"Get off, get off me." She gasped, breaking the kiss, and pushing his hands from her hips. "Not here."

He nodded, breathless, more breathless than usual. "Your call. Then where?"

She hesitated. "My place."

"What, your place?" He cried, and then shushed himself at her furious glare. "Are you sure?" Not that he wanted to postpone the shagging, but he did have a great deal of respect for Joyce Summers, plus didn't fancy getting hit on the head with an ax like the last time Buffy's mother had found him on top of her daughter. Of course, he'd been trying to rip her throat out, and this time he'd be screwing her senseless. Still, mums were funny about how you touched their daughters, and he imagined threat of death by vampire came just above rough, animalistic sex with vampire.

"My place." She said firmly, and she walked away from him, willing him to follow, which he did. She noticed he'd gone from a grabby seducer to an almost respectful escort by her side. "You're that freaked by going to my place?"

"Not your place, Luv, your_ mum_."

She laughed bitterly. "Well, don't be, 'cause everyone's staying away from me. Mom left for an art auction in San Diego a couple hours ago. Riley never comes over to my house to begin with, plus he knows I really don't want to see him right now. I know he won't show up there tonight. And everyone else thinks I need my down time. To get over my ordeal. Ha. Fighting vamps in a church before breakfast. Slayers don't rest." She kicked the curb angrily.

"So, just the two of us?" Spike had relaxed, and gone back to lecherous, groping vamp, his hands circling her waist as he moved from beside her to behind her.

She nodded, air suddenly refusing to untangle itself from her throat. She could feel a large, definite bulge against her thin skirt, prodding stubbornly into her cheeks.

"Fine with me." He snarled in her ear, and laughed inside when he felt a little shudder run through her hips.

* * *

><p><em>To be concluded...<em>


	3. Chapter 3

Sex and Candy

By Sweetprincipale

_Set during S. 4 Episode "Who Are You?" and deviates in the midst of it._

_Author's Notes: Short, smutty, Spuffy. I do hope you like it, I just needed a little break from my larger projects and thought this would make an interesting distraction._

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. _

_Dedicated to Lithium Reaper, Idiosyncratic Delusions, and Msnycegirl0820 _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part III

"Come in." She said automatically as they reached her door. "Mom?"

"Mum?" Spike hissed in panic, stepping promptly back out.

"I'm just checking." Buffy told him, flipping on a single light and locking the door firmly behind him as he reentered.

"We're clear. Just one heartbeat here." Spike pressed his fingertips lightly across the swell of her left breast. "Like a little racehorse, Slayer. Excited?"

"Not especially." She marched upstairs, turning half way. "Coming?"

"Very soon." He smirked, and followed her.

Wondered how it would be with her. Spike entered her darkened bedroom, surveying the clean, neatly made white bed, a double. A girl's bed, not made with sex in mind, but no matter. Didn't figure on doing anything complicated with her. Just good and hard, and lots of it. The way he wanted it. If she didn't want it like that- well, he knew her, didn't he? In the end, that was exactly how she'd want it.

She kept the lights off. He can see in the dark, she reminded herself, and reached over to put on the small lamp on her vanity table. _If you're gonna do this, might as well be able to see what he's doing too, make it fair. Not that he'd hurt you. He _can't _hurt you._ All the same, she dropped the wooden stake on her bedside table with a clear _thunk_.

_Got it. Don't step out of line._ Spike nodded to her in silent understanding. Should he try to undress her or let her do it? Never did a slayer like _this._ Bound to be all sorts of things they'd consider as attack moves, and he didn't fancy getting kneed in the groin right before it was called to active duty.

She paused awkwardly by him, and then reached up and started tugging her shirt off. He stood back for a second, and silently moved in to help her. If she was going through with it, then by God, he was going to do his bit.

Buffy froze initially, as soon as he she felt his hands. Never heard Spike silent for this long, ever, was her first thought. He wasn't rough, and he didn't hurry, was her second, as his thumbs slowly, methodically hooked into the waistband of her skirt and pushed it over her rear until it was at the point where it would fall on its own. She untucked his black tee, and he was already shuffling his arms through the sleeves of his blood red over shirt. Once he was shirtless, their hands met together on his belt, and jumped when their fingers made a spark.

I don't think it's s'posed to be like this, Spike thought, feeling himself take some unnecessary breaths, listening to her little heart racing, watching her pupils dilate. His hands left his belt, leaving it to her mercies, and found her bra catch with one hand, and her hair with the other.

She looked up at him, big, serious green eyes, and wet, glossed lips. Innocent face, knowing eyes. God, what a picture.

I don't think it's supposed to be like this, Buffy's eyes fluttered shut, and her mouth opened to his. Kissing slowly, deeply, still hungrily. _One of his hands is in my hair, the other is- oh whoa, there it is-_ thumb gently but insistently stroking a nipple. Her hands were kneading his bare back, sliding down to smooth white cheeks as the dark denim slid over his hips and down to the floor.

Bloody hell, this was all going wrong, Spike winced as he bit back a longing sound. It was fine to make that sound, but only when he was ravishing her good and hard, possibly just this side of pain, preferably, but unfortunately not, the other side of it. Should _not _happen just from kissing.

Her soft kneading fingers turned into cat claws. Not soft, not gentle, not like Riley! "Spike!" She panted angrily.

"Yeah, Slayer?" He pushed her back to a half-arm's length away. Nice package all around. Slimmer than Harm, more well rounded than Dru. Delectable. And soft and warm, unlike any of his other paramours. Plus- still bitable. _Soddin' chip_.

She didn't answer in words, she answered in actions, reaching down to the bed, kicking the pool of clothing to the center of the room, and yanking down the covers. She gave him a significant look, and then lay down, arms crossed over her bare breasts, defiance in every line of her reclining form.

"Direct and to the point. I like that in a girl." He smiled, and finished kicking off his boots, climbing in over her, watching her eyes widen. _Bigger than the others, I'd bet._ It's not the bulk, it's the proportions, he thought smugly. "You're a beauty, Slayer, never guessed how-"

"Spike." Her voice was pained. "Don't. Okay? No sweet stuff. No loving stuff."

"Loving? Fancy yourself much? Furthest thing from my mind, Slayer." He scoffed. "Are you saying I can't compliment you?"

"It depends on the compliment." She replied cautiously, watching him easing back, eyes roving over her as he sat beside her prone form.

"How about if I say you look like a nice piece of paradox, Honey? Innocent face, and damnably fuckable body?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not big on the profanity, but okay. That's not too bad." She looked up at him expectantly. "Well, come on, let's do this."

"That's it?" He raised his scarred brow with a look that unmistakably said "amateur." "Get right down to it?"

"Well, I didn't think there'd be anything more." She said uncomfortably. _Uh, yeah, Buffy, problem with that statement? The word _think._ You didn't think, period, so you didn't think there'd be more, or less. You didn't think about anything except for the fact that you were going to do something intimate with the one guy who recognized the real you last night. Not your boyfriend. Not your Watcher. Not even your best friend. Your freaking enemy._

"Your loss." He sighed, and bent his head swiftly, hand pressing into her pink plaid undies and ripping them neatly off.

"Spike!" She sat up with an annoyed cry. "Those were cute!"

"I agree, Luv, but they were in the way." He roughly pushed one of her slim bronze thighs away from the other and bent to where he could almost taste faint traces of arousal. But not nearly enough. Key to preventing pain, and therefore government specialty migraines, was a well oiled Slayer. Plus- if her lower lips tasted like her upper lips, he was in for a treat.

What the hell was he doing? Too close, too close, too special for him and her to do. She hadn't tried that with Riley yet- the thought pained her and she let it go. But not the other thoughts. "Whoa, what are you doing?" Legs slammed closed on his pale fingers.

"Slayer, are you in or out?" He demanded angrily.

"In, but with limits!" She cried, just as angrily.

"Well, this better not be one of 'em, 'cause you aren't wet enough for me, an' this is the fastest way I can think to get you there." He glowered.

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot choose, Spike." She ground out.

Spike growled low in his chest. Cock-tease again. And this wasn't even for him, strictly speaking. "You want this, an' you will damn well take it." He dug his hand in hard on her thigh and she made a suddenly nervous noise. It didn't derail his intent, but it did give him pause in how he was going about it. "Look." He sighed heavily. "I don't know how your other lads were, but I've got great reviews, Luv." He curled that demonically flexible tongue. "If I'm not as good as what's his face then-"

"There were no others." She hissed. He blinked, and she didn't, fixed eyes dared him to tease her.

That explained some of it. Hell, what was wrong with the men she picked up? "Well, that's bloody stupid." He shook his head.

"Excuse me?" She sounded offended and appalled, and he hastily explained.

"How're you gonna give me the shove off if you don't even know if you like it? What do the others ones do to-you know- slide things along?" One finger trailing along the inside of her upper thigh, where he could just make out a darker pink bulge under her fleshy mound and light brown curls.

"Well, for one thing, I_ loved _them. Or really, really wanted them. No 'sliding along' needed."

"We don't have that advantage, Pet, so you be a good girl, lemme try it, you don't like it," he gestured to the ramrod stiff cock between his legs, "you'll just have to work with what I've got."

Looking at that should do the trick, Buffy thought, but didn't allow herself to speak. He was nowhere near as tall at Angel, or Riley. Wasn't height supposed to give you a size indicator for the other parts? But apparently not always. "Fine. Try it. You've got thirty seconds before I tell you to get back up here."

"Oh, I doubt you'll choose that option." Spike grinned cheekily. "Open up, there's a good girl..."

She tensed momentarily, uncomfortable with his apparent scrutiny of parts that were so not meant for his eyes. Yet, here she was, showing him everything. "You say one word-"

"Beautiful." He slipped out, with an even saucier grin, and then bent his head.

"Holy shit." She gasped at the first contact, a jolt of pleasure stinging her.

"One second. I win." He laughed from between her thighs.

"I didn't say it was good." She moaned in a strained voice.

"Oh. Guess I should stop then?"

"No!" Damn, Buffy cursed herself. But he did feel so good. Soo, soooooo good.

She tasted so amazing. Sweet, fresh, and hmm, not innocent. More like _new_. Everything perfectly tight and shaped to match, a pouting heart around a little pink pearl, which- "Christ, Spike!" fit perfectly between his tongue and the back of his front teeth. "All the better to eat you with, my dear." He chuckled, and took his tongue on another circuit.

She had to stop doing this. Stop bucking under him. _Why? 'Cause it's Spike? Sorry, Buffy, he deserves whatever you've got tonight. A little "Hey thanks for coming to save my ass, and by the way, thank you for actually _recognizing _my ass." present. One time deal, all you've got._ "Wow. Oh, wow..." She gasped, elbows shooting behind her back suddenly, abs crunching in a spasm as she half sat.

Blue eyes under ice white lids flickered open and then fell shut, concentrating on her again. Drinking her juice, tongue running over and over in complex patterns, and then- inside, tickling just inside the entrance.

"Ahh. Aghh!" The first cry was soft and breathless, the second, loud and satisfied. Spike greedily lapped up a fresh wave of sudden wetness.

"Bloody marvelous." He smiled up from just under her slightly open slit. "You taste fucking amazing, Slayer."

"Wh-what was that?" She panted, giving him a grudgingly appreciative look.

Pity unwittingly emerged. "Oh, now, Sweetheart, don't tell me you've never had-"

"No! No, plenty." Buffy waved him to silence. "That was more of a "Wow, that was pretty..." she groped for a word. "Mind-blowing?"

"Long, long time to hone my skills, Luv. Vamps do it better."

A frown flashed across her face, and then dissipated. Angel and she had only gotten the one time, and it had been her first time. It was sweet and desperate and slow. Loving. Beautiful, perfect. A little too perfect, bye-bye soul, and never got a second chance. "Yeah." She spoke softly. "I bet they do..."

Hell. He hadn't meant to make her sad. Maybe later, but not just now. And, to be honest, probably not about this little encounter. This was sort of an "under the table" deal. Or maybe a better term would be "under the covers" deal. Get her mind off it, back to her fighting stance. Well, an on-her-back fightin' stance. "That was you cummin'. Care to return the favor?" He got to his knees, kneeling between her spread legs, smooth white rod fisted in and out of his grasping hand. "I doubt I taste as good as you, but I'm quite a nummy treat, so they tell me."

"You are disgusting." She sighed, and hesitated. This "give it all you got" mentality she was experiencing didn't extend to giving him a blow job. Which, really, made no sense at all. _He can slide into your body, but not into your mouth, which is an even less intimate opening in your body?_

She was mulling it over, but he didn't think the girl would make her mind up this century, and he was never too patient to begin with. "Skip it." He shrugged, crawling up until he was over her, directly on top, her head over hers, his chest about six inches above her breasts, hips _on_ hers.

"Oh. Okay." Her voice was subdued, but not sad. Accepting. _This is it_.

He almost wanted to tell her not to worry, not to be scared. But she wouldn't be either of those things, she wouldn't let herself feel like that, knew she could toss him straight off anytime she wanted. He almost wanted to tell her to smile, but he couldn't without sounding like a ponce, and besides, his body would make her smile, make her scream. His mouth had to do something, so he slowly lowered it to hers, waited for her to kiss him back. As soon as she did, letting her tongue finally slip inside, he pushed forward.

She raked his arms almost immediately, an indrawn hiss escaping her.

Again, he almost reassured her he wasn't trying to hurt her. But that wasn't true. He'd hurt her plenty, given the chance. "Buffy?" He broke the kiss.

"Good fit." She gasped.

"Comfy?"

"Pretty much." She gave him a half-smile, which he found adorable.

One does not think of your intended victim, or your intended killer, either way, as adorable, he berated himself, and pushed himself up on his arms. "Glad." He snarled, and went to work.

He wasn't gentle anymore, Buffy bit her lip to keep in the more severe of the groans. But he wasn't hurting her, God, no.

"Let it out. Can hear the noises in your throat anyway, might as well let 'em out." He urged.

"You don't need any more ego boost." She whispered.

"I'll make you, Baby." He purred. "I'll make you cum so loud your neighbors'll complain."

"Ohh." A soft moan escaped her.

"That's it, no shame in it." He bit down on her breast and sucked her nipple hungrily. Her moans increased. "Use those slayer muscles, Honey, and I'll moan right along with you."

She'd never thought of having any unusual strength there, but she supposed she did. She certainly put the slayer stamina to good use with Ril- _no! Not about him. This is about (major wiggins) Spike. Spike and I have this work thing, it's supposed to be hard, almost like fighting, but with-_ she groaned softly-_ so much more pleasure._

"You sure you want that?" She half teased, half threatened.

"You don't have to hold back with me." He reassured, smug smirk on his face. "Put the energy you usually use in kickin' my ass into this, and I'll put all my pent up energy from _not_ bein' able to kick yours..." He trailed off suggestively.

"No holds barred?" She whispered, suddenly breathless and eager sounding, no longer just a passive participant.

"No violence." He warned, and then lowered his head with a groan. "Ohhhh. Look what they've done to me."

She almost laughed, but instead awkwardly patted his back. "No holds barred, and I won't punch you or kick. Or anything like that." She dug her nails into the shoulder she was patting, using him for leverage, and arching her hips up, and together, squeezing him as hard as she could, finding muscles she knew she had, but didn't know what they could really do. "But this-" she dug in the other hand, evening up her body in another squeeze, "is okay, right?"

His eyes bugged out, almost comically, but then his face changed, as his jaw slackened, eyes closed and a long, soft groan emerged. She did it again, watching in delight at her handiwork, and the face changed again, his tongue tapping up behind his front teeth, and his jaw working. A dark, shuddering chuckle of pleasure replaced the groan. "Beyond okay." He looked at her with new respect. "That's an impressive little piece you've got on you, Luv."

"Yeah, well." She shrugged with false modesty, relaxing her grip, but then surging back. It felt good, moving on him like that, squeezing him right into the burning ache in her sensitive spots.

"My turn." He growled, and took her shoulders. He didn't dig his nails in, he was never one for scratching, even if he wasn't chipped up. "Hard, right?"

"No holding back." She challenged.

"I won't, if you won't." He threatened.

"Oh, I won't." She hissed, eyes slitting in determination. _Oh, this is bad. This is really, really bad. This is almost- fun?_

He plunged in and the bed shook, the bedside table shook, and she screeched. But when she rocked back into him, returning the thrust, he damn near fell off the bed. Which might not be a bad idea, he considered, as they began a frenzied see-sawing on the bed, grunts and gasps mingling, two masters in the ring putting their talents to new purposes. "You're not 'specially fond of this bed, are you, Slayer?" He asked at one point, sitting up abruptly, yanking her closer by her calves.

She squirmed down, wetness split open on him, and motioned for his hands. "Yes! I love this bed! I've had it since I was 12!" Fingers locked around each other's wrists, they arched into one another.

"Just warnin' you. I don't think it's built for this kinda workout." He jerked one hand free and put it under her lower back, letting her drape over his arm, yanked the other hand free and polished her nub as she was laying there, all exposed. Wild, just riding, and flowing with him.

"You wreck my bed and I'm gonna be really pissed." She caught his wrist again, circling his hand in the motion she liked best. Which she didn't even know she liked best. But with Spike, it seemed like the right thing to do, to act instinctually.

"Oh, fuck yes." He breathed, as her muscles went into a prolonged, milking spasm.

"That was my line." She protested weakly, when her fevered moaning ended.

"Oh, don't worry, Pet, I'll give you another chance to say it." He purred. "You wanna be on top for a bit?"

"Sure, why not?" She rolled easily with him, as she had before, knowing just how to move to avoid his punches, now she worked in time with him.

"Bend lower." He slid one hand to her mid back and pulled her hard little nips to his mouth. "You know, I quite like these? They're a good handful, but not superfluous."

"Shut up." She glared. "Or wait- was that a nice thing to say?" She bit her lip.

"I like your tits, is that more Slayer-friendly language?" He asked, scarred eyebrow cocked and mocking her.

"Hey, I wouldn't be with the teasing me fun right now. 'Cause I'm on top, and I'm in charge." She sat up straight and stared down on him cooly, half-lidding her eyes so he wouldn't see the sparkle of amusement in them.

"Ooh, does that mean I was in charge the rest of the time?" He crossed his arms behind his head, looking even more self-satisfied, if that were possible.

"No!" She thumped him on his rippled abs. Stupid Spike, she had kinda walked into that one.

"Ah, ah, ah- no violence." He taunted. "Unless kitty uses her claws due to overwhelmin' bliss."

She threw herself down on him, hips pummeling his, and her nails indenting his back where she held herself to him. It started off as a contest of wills, but they were too good for it to stay that way.

"Spike." She breathed, and felt his arms tighten around her torso.

"Slayer." He returned in the same needy murmur. He'd thought for sure that this much force in his actions would've given him an electric shock big enough to blow his brains out, but it didn't. It was just so good. _An' she must want it, like I knew she would. She just keeps givin' it back._ "God, Luv..."

"Uh-huh." She agreed, and rested her rippling pinkness on him for a moment, just feeling the pleasure if being filled.

_Just love this feeling. Of being wrapped in something so hot, an' tight, and beautiful. And she's all over me. Her body on mine. And her breath in my ear. Her scent coatin' me from my hair to my toes. Sweet honey, just drips out of this hive..._

_I love this. Not having to hold back. Not giving a damn if I'm doing it right. Not having to say I love him, or feel guilty 'cause I don't or I can't._

Her head moved slowly from it's resting place between his neck and shoulder, finding him turning slowly, too. Eyes locking. Heads in a reluctant slide, into a real kiss. Not part of the act, a kiss for the sake of wanting to kiss, to embrace.

"Slayer." He murmured into her mouth.

"Spike." Her fingers tangled in his hair. And he was moving again, taking her under him, one hand where their bodies joined, hellbent on giving her a third orgasm.

"Gonna make you cum. Maybe a couple more times, then me, okay?" He smiled down on her, a relaxed smile, attitude temporarily gone.

"You seem very devoted to my getting off." She pointed out, lazily running her hands across his back.

"Purely for my own ego, Luv. Every time you cum, means _I _did a good job." He grinned down, badass attitude replacing the languid posturing. "Plus, I like watchin' you get looser an' looser. Eventually that stake's gonna fall out of your bum, an' you might jus' be a real person again."

"You don't want to stay "stake" and "bum" in the same sentence, Spike. Gives me a whole new world of ideas about how to kill you someday." She smiled evilly, but he just laughed.

"Fine, Pet, stay a tight ass, gotta admit, it's a nice lookin' one." He groped down, squeezing her cheeks. And then surveying all of her. "All of you is thoroughly nice-lookin', Slayer." His voice was soft, appreciative.

"Don't." She warned. _Don't get too sweet, we're not like that._

"I like what I see. That so terrible?" He asked defensively. "Plus, I gotta gloat a bit, Luv, don't I? I'm the only vamp to ever do a slayer like _this_."

"I'm so gonna stake you when this is done." She groaned. "I am. Seriously." He continued working away, unheeding. "I mean it." They locked eyes. "Aren't you gonna stop? I'm all with the impending Spike-death."

Spike shook his head stubbornly. She whimpered around him and he opened his eyes, taking her in, his own eyes meditative. "No. Don't think you will, Luv." She tossed her head proudly, and it spurred on the torrent of realizations he was having. Had had many times before, and was finally sharing them with the one person who probably deserved to know them. The other half of the equation. _When like calls to like, and every part of you has a reflection in them_. His own words from earlier slapped him in the face. Hah. Not bloody likely. Reflection, like to like, sure, but sure as hell not like_ that._ This would never be love, only lust.

"Even if you did stake me, Slayer, think that's the way we're gonna go, Luv. One day I'm gonna punch my fangs through your throat and suck you dry, hold you tight, watch you do your final dance, in my arms."

She gasped at his words, and her mind spiraled. _Shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be about to cum when he's telling me how I'm gonna die..._ But her body didn't agree, and she began her descent. And his voice just kept going.

"Or you're gonna shove a piece of wood through my heart, and I'm gonna shower you with dust." The quivering walls around his cock milked him harder than ever, and he felt himself losing his self-control, finishing his mental image. "And I'll still be _all over you_."

"Spike. _Spike_!" A broken scream and a final plunge. Just like he said.

"Hell, Slayer! " A final stab and an explosion, just like it'd go down someday.

She was shaking, and he was spent. For a second, both were unmoving, unspeaking, still bound at the waist. The act suspended.

Her eyes could kill you, Spike considered, when they both managed to open their exhausted lids. _Don't need a stake, Sweetheart, don't need fire, got all the points and flames you'll ever need in that burning gaze._

He was still in her. Still so close, lips just above hers. She could kiss him now, and start this all over...

_I could kiss her now, and we could give this poor bed another test. Or we could end this before somethin' genuinely bad happens._ "There's a third possibility." He whispered.

"Of how we die?" Buffy whispered back. He nodded.

His voice was louder, slowly breaking the spell as he unwrapped himself from inside her. "Yeah. Third possibility. We're gonna go out together, fightin' somethin I was stupid enough to help you with."

Buffy laughed, a genuine laugh, for the first time all night, all day, maybe in several days. "You're probably right." Her voice was hesitant as she shifted gently away from him, looking at the man now lying beside her, not on top of her. "But for tonight- we have a free pass?"

He grinned, happy, goddamn it, yes _happy_, to see her laughing. "Yeah, Luv. Free pass."

They sat up, side by side on the bed, uncomfortable silence suddenly filling the air, and realization awakening in them. Buffy drew her pillow in front of her, and Spike reached for his jeans.

"Umm." She began, throat suddenly dried out.

"Don't panic, Slayer. I won't be mentionin' this." She nodded, and they shared a look of understanding. Never happened. This little foray into madness never happened. Thank God, 'cause it would be the end of everything sane, for both of them. "You forgive your doughboy." He encouraged softly. "Pretend with him a little bit longer."

His words stung, but she didn't think he meant them to cut too deeply. "Okay. And you go back to moaning over Dru."

She was the perfect partner. Even the lashes she laid went with the barbs he threw. "Suits me." He shrugged.

"C-can you hand me my-" Buffy trailed off, and pointed to the pile of clothes on the rug.

"Oh yeah, here." He passed her the items she wanted, separating his own from the pile. They dressed, awkward in motions, awkward in silence, until they were both sitting fully clothed beside each other on the bed.

_And now I toddle off with a little wave over my shoulder. Only I can't. Because I've got to bleedin' say somethin'. Because she might be a one night stand, but one day she's gonna be my soddin' endgame, or my greatest victory._

He coughed once, looked at her sideways. "You're good, you know." Her head turned, same speed at his, until they were face to face, bodies still pointing forward. The intimacy of the action is over. The words? Not quite yet. "Don't know about the other one, one who was borrowin' your body the other night, I don't know what she's like. But if he couldn't tell the difference, there's something lacking in the boy. Somehow he's never paid proper attention if he couldn't tell the difference in what _you_ do from what anyone else does." He shook his head in consternation.

_That's because I didn't do what I did with you. Never with anyone else,_ she thought silently. First real orgasms, first real letting go, not holding back. _I mean, Angel, it was good, but first time angsty, Parker was good, but too quick. Riley was - is good, thorough, pleasurable. But it's not the full body, explosive, screaming thing that overtook me tonight._ _But you can't tell Spike that. You could never, ever tell anyone that. _

She smiled at him softly. "You get the job done."

Well, if she was going to keep it brief, he'd better do it, too. Snarkily, smugly, he said, "Oh, I thought I might've done." He pushed her castoff pillow aside and gestured to a puddle of their juice in her bed. She looked like she was torn between embarrassment and pride, the slayer and the girl within warring. He'd told her tonight it would just be simple, so he had to halt that.

She was surprised that he could go from Mr. Crude to showing a sudden tenderness. But he did. His voice lost it's edge, and he pushed the pillow back over the wet spot. "It's okay. You had a good night. You could use one. I had a good time, too."

"Yeah, well, that was an unintended side effect." They shared a bitter laugh, ending with a sigh. They regarded each other, tight smiles in place. With a deft fingertip, he brushed the hand that lay beside his on the bed, before he pushed off the mattress. His hand lingered for one more second before he stood up, squaring his shoulders.

"You ever get the itch again, and you leave the stake at home-" He trailed off.

"I'll give you a call." She nodded, half-smile playing on her pursed lips.

"Anytime." He shrugged into his duster, and pulled open her bedroom door. Then paused. "Goodnight, Buffy."

"Goodnight, Spike."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Thank you all for reading. This concludes our little drama in three acts.<em>


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